


Not on Boats

by LookingForOctober



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForOctober/pseuds/LookingForOctober
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of Season 7, Buffy dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not on Boats

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published on the livejournal community sb_fag_ends, in response to the prompt "The Lady of Shalott".

She dreams that she is dead.

The first time was water, the second air, but the third time pays for all, and in her dream she burned, with her soul shining out of her eyes.

But death doesn't care how you died.

 

The motel walls were thin. All she could hear was the bass line and the drums, but she still knew exactly what song was playing in the distance. It was one of his favorites. And then another. Spike's favorites. Spike...

At first she thought someone in the hotel must be listening, and she sat on the bed, stone faced and dry eyed, straining to hear. Then she realized it must be the maid. It kept moving from room to room.

She wasn't sure why that made a difference, but it did. She turned on the radio to cover the distant music and went back to sleep.

 

She dreams she's on a boat, traveling across the River Styx. She's not sure which way she's going, there's a dark shore in front of her and a dark shore behind her. 

Don't look back, Spike whispers, his breath tickling her ear. Never look back. 

But she does, and she sees him slipping away into the darkness. He's laughing at her. Kindly, wickedly, laughing.

 

"I'm going for a walk," Buffy announced. 

"I'm coming too," Dawn said staunchly, like she was defending the idea of walks from a hoard of dissenters. Willow looked up like she was considering the idea of walking and finding it pleasant, but Buffy wanted to get away, not bring the crowd along with her.

"By myself," she said firmly. "I just need to get out for a while."

"Oh, look, there's a movie on tv," Dawn said, so that was okay.

The night was cool and clear. No moon. Once she left the lights of the little town behind, the stars were bright, which just made the darkness seem darker. It was calm. She needed that, things had been so hectic lately.

She circled the town twice and then came to rest leaning against the door of her motel room with no desire to go back in. Willow and Dawn were talking, but she couldn't hear what they were saying.

The night air brushed her cheek like a cool kiss.

"I could kill him for dying on us," Dawn exclaimed inside. Willow shushed her. "I miss Spike," Dawn insisted.

She said it so easily. Buffy shivered. 

 

She dreams that she's in the desert, and she's offered a choice. Love or long life...but she's seen the ugly side of choices like this. She is frozen with indecision.

They tell her that she must choose or she will have nothing.

She wakes up, her heart pounding.

 

"Buffy? Buffy, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, and she meant it. "Just thinking about being alive."

Willow followed Buffy's gaze out the motel window to the guy in parking lot in the long black coat. It was a silhouette that would have borne a striking resemblance to a certain vampire of their acquaintance, if it weren't for the sunlight streaming down on him from a gap in the clouds above.

"Alive and in need of extra socks?" Willow said gently. "Are you ready to go shopping?" Buffy was grateful for that gentleness, but she hated it too. Everyone had lost someone.

"If I can't have extra feet, I'll settle for extra socks," Buffy said, and jumped up before Willow could try to make sense of that. Because Willow would always try to make sense of things, find the way.

Buffy had already found her way.

 

She dreams that she's holding her heart in her hand. It's as cold as ice, and hard as crystal.

She dreams that she's burning, there's fire rising from her hand that's clasped with his and she dreams that he's smiling.

She dreams that she's hold her burning heart in her hand, and as it quivers and steams she throws back her head and shouts "I damn well do love you, you bastard!"

 

She woke up with her breath whistling through the tightness of her throat, her heart racing. She pounded the pillow with her fist, but it was no use. Once the first tear fell, it was all over. Everyone knows you can't have just one. 

She cried as if her heart would break.

But it already had.


End file.
